


follow me, i'll follow you (wonder how much damage we can do)

by Catherines_Collections



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode Fix-it, Episode: s04e12 Criss Angel Is a Douchebag, Fix-It, Gen, Magic, Magic-Users, Mentions of main character death, a very good episode that ended wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-28 06:01:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11411721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Catherines_Collections/pseuds/Catherines_Collections
Summary: “Immortality,” Charlie says again, before the Winchester boys bust in, before it all goes haywire and his two best friends are turned against him. He pulls out two cards, and stuffs them in both their jacket pockets, quickly because he can already hear the hunters coming.“We can all have it, boys. We can be young and together and the kings of magic forever. Just-” he starts as the footsteps get closer and closer and his grin widens with every step, “follow my lead.”





	follow me, i'll follow you (wonder how much damage we can do)

**Author's Note:**

> This episode ended wrong. I'm sorry, it did. It's one of the few that has actually made me despise Sam and Dean at the end? Weird. Anyway, I wrote basically what I said I would write 'all three of the magicians live on during and through the apocalypse'. 
> 
> I own nothing but the first four lines and title, enjoy!

_ And we'll do it all  _ __  
  


_ just the three of us  _ __  
  


_ explore and see and laugh together  _ __  
  


_ until the world is dust _

.

It's starts like this:

Charlie young again, smiling and laughing, thick dark brown hair where it used to be thin and gray. 

Vernon’s mouth goes slack and Jay’s words come out as a brief puff of air that only make Charlie’s grin grow wider. 

“Immortality,” Charlie says again, before the Winchester boys bust in, before it all goes haywire and his two best friends are turned against him. He pulls out two cards, and stuffs them in both their jacket pockets, quickly because he can already hear the hunters coming. 

“We can all have it, boys. We can be young and together and the kings of magic forever. Just-” he starts as the footsteps get closer and closer and his grin widens with every step, “follow my lead.”

Vernon closes his mouth, nods, and Jay stifles a smile. 

.

“So, Immortality,” the hunter starts, arrogance and false bravado colliding in his smirk, “neat trick.” 

The second hunter crowds behind him, wary but watchful and keeping what he must think is a safe distance away. 

“Oh,” Charlie says, he’s  _ grinning grinning grinning _ so much his cheek and jaw begin to ache, “it's not a trick.”

When the rope grabs him, his partner's legs don't work fast enough: for either of them. 

.

It's goes like this: 

Pretty boy one hangs from the rafters like a sad sack, and pretty boy two has enough holes in him by the end to rival a watering can. 

There's blood everywhere, courtesy of pretty boy two’s various holes, but it stays contained on the stage; ironically, stopping just below where pretty boy one hangs, neck bruised and blue and twisted at the wrong angle. 

They get out fast. Charlie covers their tracks, whispers a spell to cover DNA evidence, and makes the deaths look like a murder-suicide. He grabs the back of Vernon and Charlie’s necks and hauls them out into the alleyway, laughing under his breath as adrenaline and magic flood his veins. He pulls the cards from their pockets and grins. 

“But, Charlie,” Jay starts, and bless his heart, Charlie thinks, he always was the one with a good conscience. “What about the police? And those two boys? They were just trying to help-” 

Charlie smiles and pats him on the arm, “Jay, I got it. I'll take care of it all. Trust me.”

“He’s got this, Charlie,” Vernon says, “we’ll be fine.”

Jay bites his lip but nods his head and Charlie can't remember a time he’s ever been happier. 

.

The leave Vegas in the night and work their way up north. They hit most of the major cities, and a few of the lesser known, try to con their way in again, and test out some new routines without becoming too well known: yet. 

Jay argues,  _ don't tempt the hunters. Not now when they’ll be looking for us, not right after we've killed two of their own. Don't let them see what we can really do. Why tempt the fates, don't draw too much attention.  _

Vernon says,  _ just give them a taste. A taste of what we can do, instead of moving mountains, move trap doors, create them out of thin air.  _

_ Safety nets,  _ Vernon and Jay are very good at reminding him of,  _ you don't want to have to mind the same injury forever. _

They say it as if he hasn't already planned out thousands of backup plans for each new scheme, as if he wouldn't carry either of their injuries as his own instead, as if he hasn't insured their safety with his life.

So Charlie nods and agrees, holds his hands up in surrender at their concern, but he's smiling all the way through. 

_ I can take them,  _ he thinks, doesn't say it because he knows how Jay worries and how Vernon will frown. But powers surging through his veins and spells are on the tip of his tongue, too many hexes ingrained into his bones to ignore,  _ I can take them all.  _

And that, well. That's a plan for another time. A darker time. 

Now, Jay and Vernon are with him, bickering beside each other in the latest car they've jacked on the way to their next ‘magic’ show, and it's better than anything he's ever imagined. 

And he won't let anyone take it away.

.

At first they don't notice all the global and local disasters. They don't try to stay current on the news, often times it's too hard to keep up nowadays. 

Why worry about imminent disaster and death when you can't die Charlie once said, a joke, but neither of them could really disagree. So they move on. 

Even after hearing about all the earthquakes and floods, because they do still read the paper - young in flesh, old in soul - and the recent dramatic increases of missing persons, they don't stop: keep moving and walking, stretching their newly youthful legs as they walk across the earth. Steps almost, lighter than before, Charlie notes.

After all, it's not like there anyone to stop them. 

.

“Who the hell are you?” Vernon nearly shouts. It's three in the morning and they're staying in the closest motel to their new con, preparing for tomorrow’s show. 

The stranger, who just appeared in their bedroom, squints before narrowing his eyes and says, “I am Castiel, an angel of the Lord.” 

He turns to Jay in the corner and Charlie walking through the door. “And you,  _ you,  _ have meddled in the affairs of Heaven and things you know nothing of. Do you know what you have done? What you have damned this world to?” 

And something in the way his eyes light up when he says it, about how his teeth gnashed together and nostrils flare, makes Charlie think:  _ righteous anger _ ,  _ all encompassing.  _ And have him trying to scrunge up any bible verses he remembers from the centuries ago when he believed there was a God and he wasn’t a damned man.

The man takes a step forward, Vernon takes one back, and Jay pales in the corner. And in that second he forgets everything else and something in Charlie  _ ignites.  _

So he shrugs, says, “Not my problem,” and closes all their eyes with a wave of his hand.

And when he snaps his fingers he channels everything in him at the creature before them, and when he release their eyes back to them, Vernon and Jay see he’s gone. 

“Gotta work out those kinks in our hexes, boys,” he mumbles, glancing around the room at Jay and Vernon’s solemn faces, and allowing the grin to return to his face when they nod. 

“Now,” he starts, “let's practice. We gotta show tomorrow after all.”

.

They don't stop after the show. Not after the floods begin to overtake cities and Chicago washes right off the map the night after they leave a show there. 

Charlie had sensed something foul in the air, some kind of magic that wasn't their’s and not to be messed with, and so they gathered up their things and left right after the show. 

(He could have taken the thing, he knows, challenged it and maybe - his brazen often too cocky spirit reasons - even won, but it wasn't worth the risk. Not with Jay and Vernon both still by his side.)

They move through California, or what's left of it after all the earthquakes and hurricanes, and head further south. 

They avoid Kansas like it's some kind of poison. And maybe it is. Whenever they get a few miles within the border, something begins to tingle beneath each of their skin: gives them the same itch the man who invaded their motel room had. It's agreed upon after the first time, no matter how promising a show could be: they avoid Kansas like the plague. 

.

It's nearly two months later Charlie gets the plan to move them overseas: explore a new kind of crowd, he promises, think of all the new douche bags they can upstage! 

Jay cracks a smile and Vernon says, “You know we’ll go where ever you do.” And something, having sprouted and only grown from years of knowing and traveling with them, begins to warm in his chest. 

Charlie drapes his arm over both of their necks and grins. “You won't regret it boys. We’ll be amazing!”

Jay snorts, “Since when aren't we.” And Vernon laughs and Charlie holds them tighter. 

It's not four hours after they land in Italy, that America reports its latest death toll after suffering the most massive earthquake in history: losing nearly one-third of its population. 

.

They work their way across the earth- explore Italy and Greece and all through Europe before making their way to Asia.

They work their way across the world. 

Or, Charlie jokes, what's left of it. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed! Comments and Kudos are very much appreciated and I am rhymesofblue on tumblr.


End file.
